Uncertain Attraction
by PoisonJellybeans
Summary: Shepard is fascinated by the Normandy's resident Salarian. But Salarians don't have sex drives...do they? Shepard plans to change that. And he won't let himself fail. M!Shep/Mordin, rated M for future chapters and tasteless humour!
1. Chapter 1

**Well, I was highly sad to discover the huge lack of Mordin/Shepard fics out there! ...Yes, Mordin is said to have next-to-no sex drive, but that is exactly the inspiration for this fic! **

**I thought it would be amusing for Mordin to get...curious, if you will, and...yeah. **

**Updates may be slow, college is tiring and time-consuming, but I shall try to be frequent! This is just a prologue, if you will. The other chapters shall be longer and probably more detailed. **

**...Also, I had serious trouble thinking of a name for Shepard. He was originally Benedict Shepard. Couldn't use that name without thinking of Sherlock. Gilbert still makes me think of Hetalia. I shall forever imagine him as Prussia. **

**Also, I'm very sick right now. This is just the invention of a very delirious brain. Grammar will not be amazing.**

**Anyway. Enjoy.**

**~PJB **

~O0O~

It had barely even been a week. Just a week since Shepard had been brought back from the dead after supposedly being dead for two years. Well, two years and twelve days. Why Jacob felt it was relevant to tell him that was beyond his knowledge, but that wasn't the point. Everything was so...new. Weird. Confusing as Hell. It was completely understandable that Shepard would find everything fascinating. It was all new. New technologies that hadn't even existed two years ago, new discoveries, new breakthroughs. And yet, they were not what intrigued Gilbert Shepard the most. Not by a long shot.

"Shepard! What's got you so dreamy over there?" Shepard didn't even notice he had been zoning out. Joker's voice pulled him out of his daydream, which he had apparently had while staring blankly at the wall. Now he had to think of an excuse. The wall was sexy. Yeah, that would work. Totally.

"Just planning when to have my wicked way with this wall." He grinned, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. His hand brushed against the new, deep scars he had gained there during the crash of the first Normandy. It was odd to think that his body had been, quite literally, blown apart and then pieced back together like a damn jigsaw puzzle.

"You always did have odd taste." Garrus chimed in from beside Joker, the Turian equivalent of a grin – a strange spreading of his mandibles – plastered on his face. Shepard, Garrus and Joker had gathered in the mess hall after the rest of the crew had cleared out for the night, purely so they could drink in peace. It had become a tradition, if you will, on the original Normandy. They hadn't actually planned this, Shepard had just told them to gather because Miranda had ordered him not to do it. And he really couldn't stand Miranda.

"And what do you mean by that?" Shepard tried to sound serious, but ended up just sounding even more tipsy than he actually was.

"Well, I couldn't help but notice you spent an awful lot of time alone with Wrex..." His tone said it all. Joker raised his eyebrows and stared incredulously at the Commander.

"We were just sparring and exchanging battle tips! Nothing more!" A blatant lie.

"Alone in your cabin. At night."

"...And your room was right above mine, Commander. No one makes those noises when sparring. Nor do they tell Wrex to 'Give it to me harder you big, lumpy hunk!'" Joker added, smirking as a deep blush crept up Shepard's pale neck. The Commander in question cleared his throat and leant awkwardly against the table. He had truly believed that no one knew about his...meetings with Wrex.

"Spirits, how are you not _broken_?" Garrus shuddered. He had just unwillingly imagined himself with Wrex. Unpleasant. And wrong. So, so wrong.

"Oh, shut up. Wrex was interesting. I like interesting guys!" As far as Shepard knew, Joker and Garrus were the only two crew members who knew that he was gay. Then again, Miranda knew a disturbing amount about him. He wouldn't have been that shocked if she knew that, too.

"So, you like emotionally messed-up aliens with gross scars covering half of their faces?" Joker turned slowly to Garrus, who choked rather epically upon the mouthful of Turian liquor he had just been sipping at that moment. Shepard laughed, slapping Joker on the arm.

"...I won't say yes, but I will say that Garrus should lock his door when he sleeps." Shepard winked at the Turian, who just sent him an unreadable expression before shuffling slowly away from the Commander. If Turians could blush, Garrus probably was.

"But seriously, is there any guys on the ship that you do actually find attractive?" Inquired Joker.

"Are you coming on to me, Jeff?" Shepard snaked an arm around the pilot's waist, stroking his hand against Joker's thigh. To his surprise, Joker didn't actually move away. He just leant into the touch, shrugging vaguely. Garrus raised an eyebrow ridge, but said nothing.

"Well, that's actually what I was thinking about when I zoned out." Shepard didn't move his arm from Joker, just pretending that the situation was completely normal. Which it actually kind of was for him. Joker nodded, urging him to continue with the explanation.

"That Salarian we picked up a couple of days ago. He's so...odd." Even Shepard didn't entirely comprehend what it was about the doctor that intrigued him so. Shepard had seen plenty of Salarians, and none of them had seemed that peculiar to him. Adorable, and almost painfully huggable (Seriously, on Virmire...Shepard had to desperately hold himself back from just squeezing Kirrahe until he popped.), but nothing new. Mordin was different. Oh, so different. He didn't know if it was the colouration, the scars, the cranial horn, or the sometimes-infuriating incessant babbling, but Shepard just couldn't get his mind away from the Salarian

"Mordin? The one from Omega? He's...yes, odd is certainly one way to put it." Garrus muttered, setting his glass to the side, suddenly quite curious about Shepard's infatuation with the strange Doctor. He crossed his arms across his chest and watched Shepard's embarrassed body language with great enjoyment. He sort of liked it when Shepard showed the human side of himself. ...The human side that apparently had a huge alien fetish. Once this meeting was over, Garrus was going to check the lock on his cabin. Just to make sure.

"_Really? _So, you go from big, scary and apparently not rough enough in the bedroom, to skinny and pretty damn annoying?" Joker never would manage to wipe the mental image of Gilbert and Wrex from his mind. He also now was picturing Shepard and Garrus. They would make a cute couple. But that wasn't the point, Shepard liking Mordin? What the Fuckbuckets?

"I don't even know. He's just...I think it's the intelligence. He's so smart. I mean, he developed a cure for a damn plague affecting so many people! And then acted like it was nothing new! ...Sexy!" And Shepard didn't even want to start fan-boying over his eyes. Those eyes...they made Shepard almost go slack-jawed with just a glance. And that body...so...flexible...

"Well, he doesn't seem interested in anyone, really. Unless he wants to cut them open. He woke me up the other night just to ask if humans only have one liver. And don't Salarians have, like, no sex drive or something?" Honestly, Joker had told the Doctor that Humans have five livers, but one of them is always infected by a bug called 'the honey monster', and if it escapes, the liver explodes, and that's why people sometimes need liver transplants. Mordin actually seemed to believe him. That would probably come back to bite him in the ass, but it was freaking funny at the time.

"No sex drive, you say?" Joker didn't like it when Shepard used that tone.

"Sounds like a challenge, Commander..." Garrus was doing it, too. Joker inwardly groaned.

"Bet time! I bet that I can make Mordin want me, before the end of this whole 'Defeat-the-collectors' mission!" Shepard stood up abruptly, his arm still holding Joker close, and his step unsteady from the vast amount of alcohol in his system. The Cerberus implants scattered within his body dulled the effects a little, but they had been at it for hours. The large pile of empty beer bottles under the table told it all.

"Okay...what do the losers have to do?" Joker asked cautiously. He knew that Shepard was competitive, and wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.

"You've all met that chef guy who's also the cleaner?" Garrus and Joker nodded in reply.

"The losers, or loser, should I fail, have to hit on him." Garrus and Joker looked at each other, considering the bet. It would be funny to watch Shepard hit on him. Because there was no way Shepard was winning this.

Shepard held out a hand, clasping Garrus' talon in a tight grip. The bet was on. And Shepard never lost. Ever.


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, so, when searching on FF last night, I was scurrying around the Mordin section, and I came across this fic. I thought 'Hey, this isn't bad! Why hasn't the author updated?'**

**...And then I realized that I am the author and I am an idiot. So, I shall attempt to get back to this! ...The reason I didn't update was because the first review I got made me sad. See what you do, flamers? You make me sad! I almost deleted this fic! I will make it clear: THIS FIC IS NOT MEANT TO BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY, AND MAY OFFEND PEOPLE BECAUSE IT IS AWESOME LIKE THAT. ALSO, TASTELESS HUMOR AHOY! **

**Also, after letting a friend read this, I have just been informed that Americans do not use the word 'camp' to describe something gay...I never actually knew that was a British term. Oops. Well, Camp=gay, for those of you that didn't know. Sorry about m' Brit-isms. **

**...I wrote six pages of this monstrosity. Dear Lord. I kind of just let my fingers do the work here. They clearly quite enjoy abusing poor Shepard's crotch. **

**~PJB**

Shepard felt like death when he woke up. He was pretty sure that he'd never had a hangover quite this bad before. Well, it had technically been two years since he'd consumed any alcohol, so it was sort of understandable. It still wasn't pleasant, though. Luckily, he still remembered the events of the previous night...Most of them, at least. He only vaguely remembered something about making out with Joker. But the important part was the bet. He still remembered that perfectly. And he questioned what the Hell his drunk self had been thinking. Mordin hadn't shown any interest in anyone aboard the Normandy thus far, he only seemed to give a damn if there was something scientifically fascinating involved. Maybe that was how Shepard could get his attention? He just had to...mutate an extra limb or something!...Or maybe not.

Shepard rolled over in his bed, groaning as his stomach protested with the violent motion. It didn't really help that he was sleeping on top of Garrus. Who was all lumpy and angular...not a good cushion choice, really. Didn't stop Shepard from nuzzling his face into Garrus' leathery neck. Which probably made the Turian uncomfortable, as he tried to move away from the Commander. Which wasn't easy, as Joker was bundled half-under Garrus, his head lolling off the side of the bed. It probably looked pretty questionable to anyone who saw it. At least no one had walked in. Except Miranda, who had just given them a disturbed look before backing out of the room. Yes, it looked awkward, but all was actually pretty innocent. Except for the fact that Joker was mostly naked. But that was just the result of an extensive game of strip poker. Which Garrus was apparently very good at.

"Shep...Why are we in your bed?" Joker's voice was hoarse, his throat dry. He pulled himself into a sitting position using Garrus as leverage, earning an unmanly yelp from the alien. Shepard laughed, pushing himself off of the Turian so he could try to sit upright without his stomach ejecting itself.

"If I recall correctly, it was you who passed out in my bed...I don't actually know why me and Garrus are here, too." He glanced to Garrus for guidance, but he seemed even more clueless than Shepard. Joker retrieved his shirt from the floor and slipped it over his oddly hairless chest.

"So, how do we explain this to the crew?" Garrus was the only one out of the trio who actually seemed bothered by this. Which amused Shepard to no end. Really, the Turian was far too easy to embarrass. Joker thought for a moment and shrugged.

"Cross-species gay three-way?" Shepard agreed with Joker before Garrus even had a chance to get a word in edgewise. It's probably what Miranda would tell the Illusive man, anyway. Really, did she have to tell the Illusive man everything?...Did she tell him her menstrual cycle? ...Actually, on second hand, Shepard didn't really need to know that. Ever. He wasn't even sure why he'd thought of it in the first place. He was probably still a little drunk. Oh, missions today were going to be _fun. _

"Does anyone actually remember anything from last night? I remember the Mordin bet thingy...and something about Garrus humping a pineapple who we nicknamed Mallory, but nothing else." Ah, good, Joker remembered the bet. Even though it was stupid and just ridiculous, that didn't mean Shepard would back out of it! Even if he had to pin that damn Salarian to his lab table and make freaky-epic-and-kinda-gross love to him right there!...Although he would probably go about it more tactfully than that. Not like Garrus and the pineapple. He had wrecked that thing. Poor Mallory. Garrus silently facepalmed as he regained the memory.

"I think we might have sent Jacob some dirty e-mails. Specifically, Joker did. But...uh, yeah. The bet. Still going through with that?" Joker felt no shame. Even if he had sent Jacob numerous photos of himself naked. Why he had those pictures in the first place, the other two didn't even think to question, it was far too funny at the time to care.

"Of course! When have you ever known me to turn down a bet, Garrus? Remember back on the first Normandy when Kaidan didn't believe I would steal the underwear of every female crew mate? Remember how that ended?" Ah, Kaidan. He really didn't believe that Shepard would have done it. His face when he found out was absolutely priceless.

"With you getting a high-heel shoved in your eye, and a biotic blast to the crotch? Yeah, that ended _so _well." Aw, was Garrus actually concerned? Shepard patted him on the head-fringe, despite being fully aware that that was a well-known Turian erogenous zone. Garrus shuddered and muttered something incoherent under his breath. It sounded a little like 'you are an idiot', but Shepard decided to pretend it was a word of encouragement. Whatever it was, it didn't stop Shepard from continuing to send long strokes down Garrus' head and back, just to bug him. It silenced him, at least.

"Honestly, do you think that's going to stop me? The worst Mordin could do is...I don't know, shove a scalpel in an unsavoury area. Which actually sounds a little appealing. If death couldn't stop me, doubts won't, either!" That sounded a little too much like something out of some really, really messed up motivational speech, but it got the point across! Shepard wouldn't be beaten!...And there was no way he was hitting on Gardener. He didn't have anything personal against the guy, but...he cleaned the toilets. Not sexy.

"...Disregarding the details on your creepy scalpel fetish, what's on the agenda for today? I hope it's something with a lot of shooting. I want to see you wince in pain while I just sit back and giggle." Joker pulled himself out of the bed and searched around for his pants, quickly realizing that they were in the fish tank being poked at by a very perplexed-looking clown fish. Ah, the walk through the bridge was going to be fun.

"I'm spending too much time with you two. My mind made that kinky." Garrus checked to see that his armour still remained on his body before he left the bed. He had managed to stay clothed, but he didn't succeed in talking Joker and Shepard out of drawing multiple phalluses and curse words over the surface, in permanent marker no less. And there was pineapple juice everywhere, but the less said about that, the better. Shepard barked out a laugh as he rose to his feet unsteadily, his head still heavy from the crippling hangover.

"Muahaha, you've come to the dark side, Garrus. And, Joker...you suck. Miranda said something about a biotic on a prison ship. She then yelled at me for not listening, so I pouted and batted my eyelashes to make her feel guilty. It worked." It always worked. Really, the story about him becoming a Spectre because he'd found evidence about Saren? Lies. He'd just given the Turian councillor the puppy dog eyes and the guy melted like butter.

"Hey...can you guys...uh, escort me to the bridge? I mean, if I go alone with no pants on, it'll just look weird." Joker's logic always made Shepard giggle. Manly giggles, of course! Really, can you imagine Shepard giggling like a school girl? ...Well, I'm sure you can now because I just put the image into your mind but...shut up and read.

"Want us to take our pants off, too?" Garrus was sadly used to this kind of request back on the old Normandy. He'd kind of missed it during the two-year gap. His own mini-crew weren't so willing to randomly strip when he asked them to do so for his own amusement, no matter how much he begged. Yeah, those had been dark times. Joker gave the Turian the 'thumbs up' sign, a gesture that Garrus had only just learnt the meaning of. Originally, he had thought it was some kind of weird sexual signal.

And so happened the legendary moment when the 'Trio of sheer awesomeness', as the galaxy came to know them, strutted through the Normandy SR2, their chins held high with 'I don't give a shit what you think' pride. The cat calls of one Kelly Chambers and the disturbed mutterings of the crew acting as their soundtrack. It was truly a moment that history would never forget, the saviour of all life, _the _Commander Shepard with his junk blowing in the breeze. Magnificent.

The bitch-fairy must have been smiling upon Joker that day, as he certainly got his wish for a lot of loud shooting granted. Really, would it have been _so _hard for the Turian who was in charge of this place to just hand Jack over to him, maybe along with a nice plate of home-baked cookies and a well-meaning hug? Shepard almost wanted to cry when the first gunshot rang out. Not that the guards seemed to care that he had a head-breaking hangover. And really, why had he thought it was wise to bring Miranda with him? Her whining, combined with the firing...ungh. Just...ungh. What had he done to deserve this?...Other than chug various bottles of unmarked liquor?

"Shepard, are you even concentrating? You almost got your head blown off back there! Have you even been listening to why they're attacking us?" No, he hadn't. And he wasn't listening to Miranda right now. He was too busy releasing Jack from cryo. Maybe he should have been paying at least a little attention to the Australian, as his button-pressing caused him to set of a series of alarms throughout the prison ship. More noise. Garrus, who he had also brought along mainly because he seemed less hungover than Shepard, and because Jacob was...did he even have a personality?...no. Anyway, Garrus also winced at the shrill noise every time it called out. He may have not been as wasted as Shepard, but it didn't stop him from wanting to rip the batteries straight out of those damn alarms in the most badassfully dramatic way possible. Well, at least Jack was out. And she looked freaking _awesome. _

Miranda didn't seem all that bothered by the security mecs, or even the alarms, so Shepard and Garrus kind of just sat back and let her deal with everything. It was sort of funny, watching her try to scurry out of the firing line of a a horde of guards. The woman did a shockingly good job, though! She tore through them with only a few minor scrapes. She'd been taking out her anger for Shepard on the poor security personnel...yeah, she was pissed. That became quite apparent when Shepard glanced calmly at the pile of shredded corpses heaped against a wall. Not pretty.

The Turian who ran the facility – did he ever tell Shepard his name? Oh, who cares – had carefully aimed his gun to it would hit Shepard straight in the nads. That was for shooting his men! And there was little that Shepard could do to counter-attack. His mind had drifted to a lot more interesting matters. How could he get Mordin's attention? He needed to think of something soon, before he lost his chance to land his man!...Wow, that was a very camp way to put it. Something interesting, something different, something – _bang. _

Like a bullet to the crotch. Miranda and Garrus hadn't realized that the Turian was going to do until it was too late, and Shepard had been reduced to a half-conscious heap at their feet. Garrus would have chuckled were it not for the gaping genital wound currently gushing profusely with blood. Crotch bleeding did tend to dampen the atmosphere in most situations. Unless it was Joker's crotch, which was always funny no matter what was going on. Garrus sniped the bastard in the head with minimal effort, leading Shepard, who was groaning loudly in pain, to wonder why he hadn't just done that as soon as he had set eyes on him. Very useful, Garrus!

Shepard couldn't really remember much that happened after that, due to the penal trauma. He remembered up to the point that Garrus had to carry him back to the ship, and his brief meeting with Jack before he fainted. No, not fainted...passed out. The manly version of fainting. Jack had called him a pussy, but he wasn't really in a position to deny it, as he had been in the process of bawling his eyes out into Garrus' armoured chest. Jack had agreed to join them, stating that 'If this dick-hole was meant to be saving the galaxy, he would need all the fucking help he could get'. Shepard cried even louder at the words 'dick' and 'hole'.

Waking up for the second time that day was even worse than the first time. Now he was hungover, and in extreme agony. The first thought he had was not about where the heck he was, but something more along the lines of, 'Oh God, what happened to my girth!'. He peered down frantically, checking that everything was still in working order. There was a few...punctures, but it seemed...mostly okay. Poor Liutenant Surge. Yes, it had a name. Lovingly given by Wrex during a very strange moment of passion.

The curiosity-panic kicked in a few seconds later. He was naked. In a hospital bed...and someone had actually bandaged his doodle up. He was in the med bay of the Normandy, so...Doctor Chakwas had patched him up. She'd touched the lieutenant. Oh Dear sweet Jesus, that was a mental image that Shepard could have lived without. Chakwas was like a Mom to him!...And now Shepard felt a little violated. Actually, extremely violated. He'd been knocked out and vulnerable! Who knew what Chawkwas could have done to him with those grabby little hands of hers!

"Uh...Hello?" Shepard called out into the empty room, tugging the crisp white sheet over his waist as far as he could. He didn't need to add 'visual molestation' to the list of crappy things that had happened today, it was a long enough list as it was. The footsteps that heeded his call were frantic, fast and hurried. That wasn't Chakwas. Oh, of all the situations to bump into the very cause of his groin injury...It was Mordin. Of course it was Mordin, because fate hated Shepard.

"Did not expect you to wake so soon. Cerberus upgrades must dull sedative effects, will research more later." That voice. Shepard found it almost confusingly sexy, especially when it was blurting intelligence at almost a mile a minute. Shepard forced his best smile, his attempts to make himself appear attractive beyond futile. There were bags under his eyes, he _still _reeked of alcohol. Hopefully Salarians found things that would repulse humans hot for some unexplainable reason.

"You honestly expect a little wound to keep me down?" Why did he always put on that weird tone of voice when he was trying to impress someone? He'd noticed himself do it before when he was trying to goad Saren into not being a douchebag. The puppy dog eyes had worked there, too. It was a gift.

"Quite the contrary, too busy crying to even pass out. Almost comedic. Or sad. Will take time to heal, recommend no touching self for at least a week." _Well, then maybe you could touch me..._He couldn't say that. His remaining scrap of dignity would not allow him to. He barely even knew the Salarian...it wouldn't be right to throw himself at him. Unless that was actually how Salarian mating worked...Crap, Shepard had no idea what Salarians found attractive. Or how to go about seducing the genius...Extranet. The extranet had everything. Even Hanar-Yahg porn...uh, not that Shepard had actually been watching any. He was just...curious. And aroused. Ahem.

"Any other...advice?" His attempts at sounding alluring instead sounded predatory, like he was about to start munching on the poor Salarian. Mordin either didn't catch Shepard's intentions, or he was just ignoring him. Shepard honestly didn't know which was more likely. Probably the latter. How could Shepard make it any clearer? Walk around the ship naked with a sign post around his neck pointing at his crotch that read 'MORDIN, I HIGHLY WISH TO SCREW YOU'? ...That wsn't a bad idea. Or maybe it was. Shepard was hopped up on sedatives, anything he said right now was going to make no sense. Hopefully Mordin would just pin any stupid comments on that.

"Suggest focusing on Collector threat. Good distraction, will keep mind off crotch trauma. Busy with research myself. Lab set up perfect, plenty of data to work from." Shepard knew that was just the awesome-Salarian way of saying 'Get out, you bore me'. But at least now Shepard knew that Mordin wasn't interested in his crotch!...Which...wasn't good at all, really. Bugger. So, next time they spoke he would have to avoid any penis talk...which consisted of most of Shepard's vocabulary. Oh, this was going so well!

Shepard nodded and moved to climb from the bed, forgetting entirely that he was naked. He considered making a quick move to grab the duvet and cover his pride, but he would not let himself seem weak in front of his prey! In fact, he strutted out of that room with his head held high, his arms swinging with confidence! The air felt good on his injury. It wasn't quite so pleasant for the crew, though. Especially not Jack, who was on her way to her new home down in the engineering deck. She didn't really care about seeing Shepard's dick, but that thing...that thing was shredded. And now it was forever burned into her innocent little mind. Heh. Innocent. Right. Well, at least this ship wouldn't get boring in a hurry.

And on that day, Mordin learned that Commander Gilbert Shepard was one of the most peculiar humans he had encountered. Even moreso than that strange man who liked to rub himself up against the trash can outside the clinic on Omega. Disturbing. But very funny to watch.

Also, Miranda totally got photos of Shepard crying onto Garrus. She would blackmail him into behaving! ...And maybe sell some copies on the extranet.


End file.
